Hi! It's me! (No Shit) Here I am with another exciting instalment of…

Searching for Black

Chapter 3: Sirius Screamed

The man paced. He didn't look much like a man anymore. His skin was dead white and waxy and his eyes were sunken. His once glossy black hair was filthy, matted and hanging to his elbows. He was so thin he was closer to a skeleton than anything else and his eyes burned with something dreadful and totally unfathomable. Back and forth, back and forth as if trying to wear away the floor of the cell. He spoke, his voice sounding as though he had long ago lost the habit of using it. He sounded like he was arguing with someone.

"It wasn't a dream…It wasn't a dream because I wasn't asleep…But she died…they all died…But it wasn't a dream." It was a strange argument, the man seemed to be taking both sides and arguing against himself.

"I've got to stop thinking about her. She's dead. She's dead. God Damnit man, you know she's dead so stop willing yourself to believe she isn't." The man was yelling at himself now. He stopped, took a deep breath and started muttering.

"Dead…all dead…little baby Harry not dead…oh no…he's not dead…but they're all dead…all dead…dead…dead…dead…all dead…very dead…little babies not dead…nether of them dead…everyone else dead…all dead…dead…" an insane glint light up his eyes and he began to laugh. His laugh was cut short, however, as he felt the now familiar,  cold, dread presence of a Dementor glide down the corridor towards his cell. There wasn't much more they could take from Sirius, his happy memories were all locked away, in a prison as formidable as that in which he now was. A prison, guarded by the memories of the night everyone he loved became lost. A prison, lit only by his knowledge that it wasn't him. A prison, escapable only after he had escaped this one. That was usual enough, however, he could also hear footsteps. Plainly human footsteps. Stopping for a moment. Then moving on again. With an almost torturous slowness whoever was in the corridor came closer. Then, almost without warning, his door swung open. Sirius Black stared into the eyes of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for magic.

"Why the hell is he here?" muttered Sirius so quietly that only he could hear it. Fudge looked a little uncomfortable, to say the least, at being confronted by the most infamous criminal ever to be held in the Azkaban fortress. Sirius Black's insane eyes bore into Fudge's before swooping down to gaze at the rolled up newspaper clenched if his fist. His gaze was hungry now, hungry for knowledge, hungry for something to break the monotony of his semi-mad existence.

"Can I have that paper?" he asked, his voice as hungry as his eyes. Fudge shifted nervously.

"Um…yes…well…I suppose it can't…um…hurt." He shoved the paper at Sirius left quickly. Sirius never heard him go. Running his hand across the back page, Sirius turned the paper over, and began to read an article titled MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE. Truthfully, Sirius hardly took in a word; he was too intoxicated with being able to read once more. He laughed again, this time truly a laugh of joy. However, as he glanced at the picture of the large family, he plummeted back into the fear-infested pit he had just dragged himself out of. Peter Pettigrew was at Hogwarts. Peter Pettigrew was too close to Harry. Far too close. How long before another part of his former life was swallowed up by that monster, that foul creature, that heartless demon who was Lord Voldemort. For the first time since the night Amara re-appeared…Sirius Screamed…

AUTHOR NOTES!!!!!!!!!

Thanx to those who have reviewed so far! (I'm amazed, none of them are people who I have threatened with stoning by large, fluorescent pink, fluffy slippers if they didn't read and review. AKA my friends)

To Voltora: Here's the next chapter, if I haven't e-mailed you about it by now, please feel free to send me as many howlers as you please.

To Vanessa: Sorry about it being hard to read – that's why I've had to try five times – trust me, be glad you read this version and not one of the others – they were worse. Sorry, but in what way is this different to what you expected?

To FleurWeasly: I most certainly WILL keep going, especially as I have already written chapters 12, 13,14 and fifteen.

Love to you all

Clare – The Shadow Witch